


The First Time

by SheynaLew



Series: Hard Fought, Hard Won [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s02e22 Out of Mind, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12787194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheynaLew/pseuds/SheynaLew
Summary: The first time he'd thought of her that way it had taken him completely by surprise. It shocked her too. Based on Season 2 Episode 22: Out Of Mind. The first in a series of Sam/Jack fics, based on individual episodes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like the first chapter in the first fic in the first series I’m writing. I plan to follow Sam and Jack’s relationship as it develops, from what I consider to be the true start to the characters ‘relationship’ (or at least where I see them both noticing their potential feelings for one another). This chapter is based on the Season 2 episode, “Out of Mind”. It focuses on events within the episode, but delves into the characters’ mind a little. It’s from Sam’s POV. Chapter 2 will be Jack’s POV.

Cold and wet, she opened her eyes; shaking and gasping for breath.

“It’s okay, Dr Carter. You’re in the SGC. You’re going to be fine.”

She didn’t feel fine. She felt cold, confused. And she felt a moment of panic as her heart lept; where was she, how had she got here? But the man had said she was in the SGC. This didn’t look like the SGC. And if it was, where was her team? The panic gripped her again.

“SG-1?” she whispered.

“I’m afraid they didn’t make it Captain.”

The panic was gone, replaced with a choking swell of emotion. One of her worst fears had been realised; she was the only one left. The Colonel, Daniel, Teal’c, gone, and she had been left to cope with that loss alone.

“How?” she asked.

“We don’t know. You’ve been in cryogenic stasis for 79 years, Captain. I know this is a shock...”

“Really?” Her devastation turned to anger. Of course it was a shock. Her team were gone and she didn’t know why

“But we need your help; we need to find out who was capable of this level of technology. Do you feel up to helping us?” He balked at her cold stare. “I understand this has all been thrown at you suddenly, but any information you can give us is urgently needed.”

She snapped back into military mode. She would mourn SG-1 in time. Now, she was at Stargate Command, and they needed her help.

“Ok.”

“Thank you.”

The technology they used to extract her memories was uncomfortable to say the least, downright intrusive would be more accurate; displaying her thoughts and her past on a screen for others to see. But she realised the necessity. She had to help the SGC, she had to help Earth. But she was being torn. She had pushed thoughts of SG-1 down, focusing on the task at hand. But there was a niggling doubt in her mind that she should not be revealing her memories to these strangers. Because that’s what they were. They may be SGC personnel, but she didn’t know them. They were strangers. And something the woman had said gave her an uncomfortable feeling. Something about a battle with Apophis, but Sam knew Apophis to be dead. And the woman’s defence that she was trying to “stimulate the region of Sam’s memory that involved doing battle with the Goa’uld” didn’t quite sit right. She supposed it made sense, but there was something about the way the woman had rushed to explain herself that didn’t sit right with Sam.

The de-brief, which is the only way Sam could describe it, came to an end, for which she was extremely grateful. It was not only a little intrusive, but having to watch her own memories play out whilst processing the thought that her team was now dead was becoming too painful to suppress.

“Thank you, Captain.” The woman said. “We’re going to let you rest now.”

“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say.

The sleep that took her was complete and dreamless, sinking her into a comforting darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

“Kelmac kree, mak’tel’a!” Jack lay almost completely still, hand clenched around the drip intended to keep him sedated, but it took effort not to move at the unmistakably harsh words being spoken. His knee-jerk reaction was to reach for a gun and be prepared for a fight. But he had no gun, and it was vital that he remain still. It was clear to him now that he had not been told the whole truth when he had first been woken. He supposed it was possible that the Tok’Ra were at the SGC, but his gut and experience told him not to assume the best case scenario. Had the SGC been over run by Goa’uld in the last 79 years? Was he even on the base? Was he even on earth?

He opened his eyes just a little.

“Roc’kree’no. Ma’tal!” The woman’s tone was just as harsh. So neither of them were from Earth?

Jack heard footsteps. They were leaving, but he still did not move. He’d made the right call, he realised, as he heard another presence moving within the room, caught a glimpse of another man’s movement on a platform to the side of the room. Slowly, carefully, he reached up and pulled the tubes out, trying not to wince as he did so. He needed to get out of there, to find out exactly where he was. But he really didn’t have the advantage right now. He was still a little woozy from whatever drugs they’d been feeding him, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to get across the room and overpower whomever else was there with him. He’d have to get them to him. Use the element of surprise if he could.

Closing his eyes again, he coughed. It worked; he was coming down to the table Jack was lying on. As the man leaned over him Jack reached up, grabbing him around the head with both hands, and swung his leg around to kick him, knocking him to the floor. He’d caught him on the side of the head and managed to knock him unconscious. Jack steadied himself, yanking the tubes from his body. He had to act quickly. The others could have been alerted by the man’s shout, they could be back any moment, and he certainly wasn’t strong enough yet to take on more than one. He knelt down and began to yank the clothes from the unconscious stranger on the floor.

As swiftly as he could, Jack pulled off the clothes he’d been given. He noticed the SGC patch on his shoulder, but by now he was pretty sure he wasn’t on the base. The Goa’uld, because he was convinced these weren’t Tok’Ra, had tried to convince him he was on Earth. But why? What did they have to gain from freezing him for nearly eight decades and waking him up now? If this even was eight decades from his own time. For all he knew they’d lied about that. And if they’d lied about that they could well have lied about SG-1 being dead. That was going on his objective for his stroll around this facility. Right next to “determine just where the hell he was”, there was “find the rest of SG-1.”

The thought that they might be alive spurred him on. He was responsible for them and the thought of any of them being interrogated by the Goa’uld made him damn angry. Teal’c could hold out, he was sure. Carter was strong and trained to resist. Plus she was smart; with luck she wouldn’t fall for this sham the Goa’uld called the “SGC”. Daniel, on the other hand… He certainly wasn’t weak, but he was the most trusting man Jack knew. Daniel should be his priority. But Carter or Teal’c would prove useful if it came to fighting their way out. Hell, he’d be happy if he found any of them alive.

With the thought that they could be here somewhere, Jack moved on. Stumbling slightly, he moved towards the door. He peered round to check the coast was clear and, seeing nothing, he headed out. The corridors looked very much like the base, which he found disconcerting to say the least. He was beginning to doubt his instincts when he reached the elevator. Reaching into the pocket of his stolen jacket, he pulled a key-card out and swiped it. To his relief the light turned green, the doors slid open, and Jack knew that he was right to trust his gut.

SGC elevators weren’t gold inside. Where there should have been grey, the wall was elaborately decorated in shining golden metal. The same shining golden metal the Goa’uld loved to use in their ships. This definitely was not the SGC. But why would anyone go to such elaborate lengths to create a replica of the base? Besides convincing Jack that his team were dead and getting a bit of information out of him, why would any Goa’uld bother to create this? And which Goa’uld even knew about the SGC in this level of detail? Question after question piled up in Jack’s mind as he stepped inside.

Moving forwards he realised that this was not just a golden wall. It was a door. He walked towards it and they slid open, much as the elevator doors had done just a moment before. Now he was certain; the corridor was a Goa’uld ship. He’d seen this sort of place before. He stepped into the corridor, on edge now, and started when the doors closed behind him. He wished he had a weapon. A gun would have made him feel much more confident right about now. Regardless, he strode into the corridor, about to round a corner when he heard footsteps and ducked back again.

Two Jaffa guards marched towards him. Jack slid down a gap between two walls, edging back behind them as they rounded the corner where he had stood moments before. That had been too close, he thought. He really wanted his gun.

The rush of adrenaline which had spurred him on, heightened his senses enough that he could hide quickly, started to ebb. He’d managed to block the tube pumping him with drugs fairly quickly in the interrogation room, but some had still gotten into his system. They’d knocked him back, and truth be told he wasn’t quite over their effects. Coupled with the tense situation he found himself in, he would have liked to take a moment to recuperate and get his bearings. But he knew he had no time. SG-1 could be anywhere in this facility, and he had to find them. Running his hands over his face and through his hair, he set off again.

Nothing round the next corner, but another Jaffa guard nearly caught him out a little further on. He ducked behind a wall again and waited until the corridor was clear. Again, he felt the absence of his weapon. Not only that, but the absence of his team. Some back-up would have been pretty good right about now. He hoped it was Teal’c or Carter he found first. He wanted to make sure Daniel was okay, but the military minds of the Jaffa and his second-in-command would be useful. If they hadn’t been drugged too, of course.

Stepping back into the corridor, a sharp stabbing pain shot through his head, and he fell forwards against a pillar for support. Flashes of a similar scenario flew through his mind. Bra’tac behind him. Two of Apophis’s guards. A zat in his hand. The pain was too much and he fell to the floor, clutching for his head. He was pretty sure he’d cried out. He looked around quickly, checking that no one had been drawn to the noise he’d made. Nothing, but he couldn’t risk staying on the floor. He pulled himself off and made for the nearest doors.

They slid open, as the previous ones had done before, and he saw again the familiar interior of an SGC elevator. Worried for a moment that he’d been turned around and was back where he’d initially started, he looked around as the elevator doors opened onto an SGC corridor. No, he told himself, an imitation of the SGC. He picked up his pace and headed towards a room, similar to the one he, himself had been in.

Relief hit him first. As he peered round the corner he saw a figure, prone on a table, with a mop of blonde hair. He hadn’t looked long enough to know for sure that it was Carter, but his heart jumped slightly at the thought that at least one of his team, that Carter, was possibly alive. Then he was worried and angry. He looked again and was sure this time that it was her. She was unconscious, which meant she’d been drugged. He wanted to storm into the room, shoot the man standing over her. Yet again, he wanted his gun. Instead, he slid silently into the room, behind the man, out of his eyeline. Looking down he saw some kind of canisters on the floor. They looked heavy, he thought. Heavy enough to do some damage? To knock the guy out? He hoped so. He picked one up, felt it’s weight, and took another look at the man. He still wasn’t sure it would do the job, but he had to do something. If he missed, if he didn’t manage to knock him out, he could alert others to Jack’s presence. Then it would all be over.

Grimacing, he stepped forward and swung the canister up, just as the man turned around. Jack caught him just behind the ear, and the man fell onto Carter. Jack pulled him off her and threw him to the floor, relieved that it had worked, but now concerned again for his second-in-command.

Jack leant over her, and whispered “Carter”. He couldn’t speak louder or he could be caught.

“Carter”. He tried again. He looked down at her properly and saw the tubes fixed to her body, pumping the same drug into her as he’d had in his own system not long before. She wasn’t going to wake up so long as that was still on her, so he reached down and pulled the device off her chest, touching her shoulder, making sure she was still alive, just as she began to stir. He knelt down closer, whispering her name again.

Groggy, dazed, she opened her eyes. She looked stunned, he thought, surprised to see him. But then, she had probably been told he was dead. He felt her grab for his shoulder, checking to see if he was real. She looked about to speak, and he gestured urgently for her to stay silent. He placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, and noticed, as if he hadn’t quite seen her before, that, other than the sheet covering her, she was quite likely naked. He left his hand there anyway. He was as glad that she was alive as she was that he was real.

She looked at his face, concern in her eyes. And something else, something akin to relief mingled with fear. “I thought you were dead.” He felt a slight tug in his chest as he thought, I thought you were too. But he didn’t say it. He just gestured at her, as if to say “Can’t kill me, Carter.” But he didn’t say that either.

There was a sound from the other end of her bed. They had hooked her up to one of those screens, and he realised that thing on her head had been triggered by a memory, which they were now being forced to watch. He felt as though he were intruding on her private thoughts. Whilst it was himself of the screen, he felt no right to see what memory her fear at losing him had triggered. The alien device which had pinned him to the wall of the gateroom was on the screen in front of her. He watched himself fly back, stabbed and thrown against a wall as Carter yelled “Get out of there!” Saw her run towards him, the fear on her face as she said “It goes right through his shoulder, into the concrete.” And again, there was something else in her eyes.

Jack turned and pulled out the wire connecting Carter to the screen, as she muttered “Woah”, still clutching his shoulder.

“Yeah. These things have a nasty habit of going off when you least expect it.” He whispered. “Try not to think too much.” He could have laughed at himself as he said that. Carter not thinking was akin to the world ceasing to turn. She was watching his lips move.

“They said...” He knew what she was going to say. That he was dead.

“They’re Goa’uld Carter.”

“Daniel, Teal’c?” She was looking into his eyes now, searching for reassurance that their team, their friends, were still alive too. He couldn’t give her that.

“Don’t know yet.” His eyes flickered down at her, laid out on the table. “Think you can walk?”

She nodded, and he saw her hand move, watched it as she brought it up to hold the sheet to her breasts. Then he realised where he was looking and moved his eyes away, to her neck instead, which considering how bare it was, probably wasn’t much safer than where he’d glanced a moment before. She sat up, and his eyes were drawn now to her shoulders and back. But he tore them away and focused on her ear instead. Ears were safe. She turned to whisper and his eyes flickered down again.

“The drugs must have prevented me from sensing the Naquadah.” She said, softly. He wished they could speak louder. The whispering wasn’t helping, and, again, his eyes were drawn down to where the sheet was clutched to her chest. He had to do something about this; they needed to get out of there and she couldn’t do it naked. He couldn’t do it if she was naked, he thought, and then mentally reprimanded himself for the thought.

Her head moved to look at him and his eyes automatically flicked away, up to her eyes. “Trade clothes with that guy” he whispered, nodding to the unconscious man on the floor. One last brief flicker of his eyes, which he told himself he couldn’t control, and he turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pressure’s on to keep this one interesting, so I really hope you like it. Some of the same scene as Chapter 2 and a little more, but from Sam’s POV. As usual, let me know if you want more!

She hadn’t been dreaming exactly, but she felt the instant consciousness returned; the recognisable signs of being sedated. The world stayed foggy, although the confusion began to clear; she kept her eyes closed a little longer. She didn’t want to open them. She didn’t want to have to tell these strangers more about her deceased teammates and all the times they’d fought the Goa’uld. With her eyes still shut she could pretend for a moment that they weren’t gone, that she wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t true, she knew, and eventually she’d have to face the reality that she would not see the Colonel, Daniel or Teal’c again. Though damn if she couldn’t smell the Colonel’s cologne right now. Perhaps that brand had survived the decades and whomever had woken her to conduct more interviews was wearing it. She even imagined that the person next to her was whispering her name in a way only the Colonel did … had done, she corrected herself glumly. That made it all the harder to open her eyes. But she forced herself to do it in the end.

What she saw threw her. He was bending directly over her, looking down with concern and relief in his eyes. She felt her hand move up automatically and grab his arm, clutching at it for assurance that he was real. She wanted to sit up, hug him, though, even in her groggy state her training stopped her from behaving too familiarly with this man that was her commanding officer. Instead she opened her mouth to speak, to say “Sir”, or ask him what was going on. But he gestured at her to remain silent, and ever the obedient officer, Sam closed her mouth.

His eyes flickered over her prone body, checking she was alright, and she gazed up at. him relieved that he was alive, grateful that he had found her. A light flutter in her stomach betrayed her joy that it had been the Colonel who found her, and the slight nervousness she always felt when she was around him; even in situations like this. He had his hand on her shoulder, and her skin tingled at the touch. She tried not to think about the fact that she was naked, but for the sheet covering her, or the fact that the Colonel was touching her bare shoulder, yet she couldn’t help enjoying the warmth his hand provided.

“I thought you were dead”, she whispered. It was all she could think to say. A momentary hesitation as concern, and something else, crossed his eyes, then he was back to the usual Colonel O’Neill, the man she had been sure she would never see again. She knew the casual hand gesture, meant to reassure her, was a little forced, but she was grateful for it anyway. She remembered all the times he’d nearly died, all the times she’d almost lost him, and she had been gripped by the fear that there would be no more Jack O’Neill.

Suddenly, there was a sound from the foot of her bed as the screen in front of her flickered to life. The memory she had just been reliving was projected on the screen: the last time she thought he was going to die. The alien device shot a metal spike into the Gateroom floor, another into the wall barely missing Teal’c, and then to her dismay, as she yelled “Get out of there!” a spike shot through the Colonel’s shoulder and pinned him against a wall. She saw the fear on her own face as she shouted “It goes right through his shoulder, into the concrete.” She recognised the concern in her own eyes and, for the first time, saw the way she looked at the Colonel. She had never realised how evident her emotions had been, reflected on her face, and she was worried he’d seen them too, as he reached over her and pulled the wire from her head.

The shock of the vivid memory hit her once more. “Woah!” She gripped his shoulder a little more tightly, as much to reassure herself that he truly was real as to steady herself.

“Yeah. These things have a nasty habit of going off when you least expect it.” He whispered. “Try not to think too much.” She watched his lips utter those last words and noticed them twitch, almost about to smile. She saw the glint in his eyes and knew he found the idea of her “not thinking too much” quite amusing. He was right. She did think too much. Right now she was thinking about the lies she’d been told by the woman earlier.

“They said...” she started.

“They’re Goa’uld, Carter.” He revealed, disgusted.

Stunned only for a second, she realised it had all been a lie. The Colonel was alive, they weren’t 79 years in the future, and this most certainly wasn’t the SGC. A bolt of hope shot through her as it occurred to her that the rest of SG-1 might be here too. “Daniel, Teal’c?” She stared intently into his eyes, no longer nervous about betraying any emotion, solely concerned for her friends. But her heart dropped a little as she saw a flicker of sorrow cross his face.

“Don’t know yet.” He didn’t want to get her hopes up, she knew, but he clearly didn’t want to think they were gone either.

She saw his eyes flicker over her body, and was again self-conscious about her nakedness. She wondered if he’d noticed, but assumed he hadn’t, or at least that it hadn’t affected him, when he said “Think you can walk?” Ignoring the mixed feelings of disappointment and relief, she nodded. However, he was still looking at her breasts, she thought, and she reached a hand up to hold the sheet in place. When he moved his eyes away, she knew she’d caught him staring, and her stomach cast another round of somersaults. If it hadn’t been for the seriousness of the situation, she would have been slightly amused at his discomfort; he’d drawn his eyes away from her chest, but he was clearly aware of what he’d been doing and couldn’t look her in the eye either. Was he staring at her ear now?

Doing her best to distract him, she went into Carter mode. “The drugs must have prevented me from sensing the Naquadah”, she said, softly, in an attempt to analyse the situation. But his eyes had flickered back down again, and she realised he wasn’t really listening. She found the idea that he seemed unable to stop himself from sneaking a peek highly elating, but immediately reprimanded herself for such an inappropriate thought. She shouldn’t be pleased that her commanding officer was checking her out.

As she turned her head towards him, he seemed to catch himself, and looked up into her eyes. That did nothing to rein in the countless butterflies in her stomach, nor did how close he was to her. “Trade clothes with that guy”, he whispered, nodding toward an unconscious man on the floor, whom she hadn’t noticed before.

The Colonel moved away, and she did her best to keep the sheet wrapped around herself as she swung her legs round and slipped off the table. He had his back to her, but she was still very aware of being naked in the room with him as she pulled the clothes from the unconscious man and began to put them on.

“Sir,” she called back to him, and he turned around. The relief that he wasn’t dead at all was still fresh, but now over-powered by her desire to find the rest of their team and get home.

Both she and the Colonel seemed to fall easily back into Air Force mode as they stepped silently to either side of the door to check the passage beyond was clear. Despite knowing it was not their home, Sam felt unusually at ease in their surroundings, probably because the setting was an exact replica of the base under Cheyenne Mountain. “Sure looks like the SGC.” She muttered to him as she followed him out into another corridor. The lift, too, was a detailed copy, but the doors at the back betrayed the truth behind the facade; the elaborate golden decoration the Goa’uld favoured cladding the wall, and the hallway beyond was eerily familiar.

“Wow. This looks just like...” was all that Sam could say before the Colonel interrupted her swiftly, raising his hand towards the device on her head. “Don’t think about it! You’ll set that thing off.”

But it was too late. Pain shot through her temple as she cried out and her fingertips reached instinctively for the device. The Colonel rushed forward, putting his hand over her mouth and dragging her behind the nearest pillar. He pulled her close to him to stop her from making any further noise, and to take cover from the unmistakable stomping of Jaffa guards approaching from around the next corner.

Sam held her breath while a torrent of adrenaline rushed through her veins. They were in great danger, but with the Colonel’s hand around her waist, tugging her even closer against his chest, and the other still covering her mouth, Sam felt a strange sensation of safety washing over her. Her own hand clutched at his arm as the guards passed by them and entered the false elevator.

“Can’t we take these things off?”, she whispered as soon as the group had disappeared.

His voice was low and hoarse, and Sam was once again ashamed at the feeling coursing through her. “I dunno. You tell me. Mine’s in pretty deep.” He breathed against her neck, as his right hand came to rest on her shoulder, but never loosening his grip on her. Sam was very aware of the heat emanating from his body, as she remained pressed close against him.

She told herself to snap out of it. Focus on the immediate problem, she scolded herself. Concentrate on the devices. “Yeah, you’re right. Pulling them out might cause some pretty nasty collateral damage.” She hadn’t gathered all her wits yet; she was still highly aware of their closeness. She sighed internally and told herself, it was the tension of the situation.

“Yeah, we don’t want that.” Was there amusement in his voice? Now? Really?

They allowed themselves to dwell on their forced intimacy a moment longer, pressed to the wall and to each other, though the Jaffa had gone. Sam made the first move, bringing herself back to Carter mode, back to the task at hand. Partly regretting moving away and instantly missing his touch, partly glad that she had removed herself from the confusion being that close to her Commanding Officer had caused her. She hoped these feelings were brought about by the relief of him being alive and the tension of their current predicament, and not anything more. She turned around the pillar quickly and he followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BETA-ed by the lovely Jackantha! (Thank you!!!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 focuses on some of the same parts as Chapter 3, but from Jack’s POV.
> 
> Once again, thank you SO much to the wonderful and patient Jackantha who beta-ed this chapter for me. It was a bit of a confusing mess until she fixed it, so all credit goes to her for getting this chapter to make sense!

As the Jaffa rounded the corner Jack loosened his grip on Carter’s mouth, not moving his hand far in case she triggered the memory device again, instead leaving it to hover in front of her face; he wasn’t sure what to do with it now that the danger seemed to have passed. Obviously, he couldn’t put it back on her face, but nor could he go with his urge to rest it on her stomach with his other hand. That was too much like a hug, and brought back the stark memory of standing over her whilst she lay naked but for a blanket only a few moments ago.

“Can’t we take these things off?” Carter whispered, bringing Jack back to the present.

“I dunno. You tell me. Mine’s in pretty deep.” He moved the hand from in front of her face to touch the device at his temple.

“Yeah, you’re right”, she answered softly. He wished she wouldn’t whisper like that when she was pressed up against him. It was doing funny things to him. And just like that his hand had found its place on her shoulder and he was having to consciously try not to reach up and touch her face. “Pulling them out might cause some pretty nasty collateral damage.” Did she have to heave her chest up and down whilst she breathed?

He forced himself to snap out of that train of thought. “Yeah, we don’t want that.”

They should really move. But Jack let himself breathe in the scent of Carter’s hair and a faint note of lavender reached his nostrils. ‘Stupid,’ he told himself. He turned his face as she glanced up at him and closed her eyes for a moment.

All too soon she’d pulled away, and he mentally kicked himself for feeling a little disappointed that she had gone. ‘She is your Second-in-Command, O’Neill. Do not let yourself go there.’ He forced himself back from the dangerous places his mind had been taking him and back to the matter at hand.

They were walking through yet another SGC-imitation passageway. Far from feeling like home, the place was giving Jack the creeps. “What the hell?” he muttered as they carried on. He soon realised what was off. This wasn’t just a replica of the SGC, but of the corridor outside the room in which he had been kept in, and again of the corridor outside Carter’s room. It seemed the Goa’uld had simply created the same sections of the SGC three or more times. ‘Well’, he thought, ‘if he and Carter had been in a room off this same passageway, perhaps Daniel or Teal’c were too.’ Trying not to get his hopes up too high, he and Carter flanked the doorway.

There was a guard inside, as there had been with Carter. At least Jack assumed they were guards. They certainly weren’t dressed like Jaffa, but they were clearly there to supervise their victims. Jack motioned to Carter that he would go in first, distract the guy so she could slip in from the other side and take the sentry out. Jack waited until the man’s focus was on his screen and crept into the room. Not subtly enough. His opponent’s attention was drawn, and he looked up as Jack stepped up to the raised platform. He paused, surprised, then moved towards Jack in what could only be considered a threatening manner, which quite frankly, Jack did not appreciate.  
Not quickly enough, however. Carter was behind the guard. With a cannister she had picked up from the floor, she knocked him unconscious before he had even reached Jack.

Together they stepped back down from the platform towards the table, where, to Jack’s relief, Daniel was lying, naked but fortunately also under a blanket. Jack tried not to think too hard about the difference in his reaction to seeing naked Daniel versus naked Carter. They were both under his command. He shouldn’t have considered Carter any different to Daniel.

The two officers stood over their teammate as Jack whispered “Daniel.” But typically the perpetual sleepyhead didn’t move a muscle; so Jack tried again a little louder. “Daniel!” Finally, he opened his eyes and Jack wiggled the wire and device at him.

A similar look was on his face as there had been on Carter’s, though, Jack thought, not quite the same expression. There was the shock, disbelief and a hint of joy to see his teammates alive, but something was missing. Affection? Before Jack’s thoughts could deviate further, Daniel began to speak.

“I don’t understand. They said...”

“They’re Goa’uld, Daniel.” Carter interrupted him.

“What year is it?”

“1999, more than likely.”

“So, this is all a hoax?”

“Big hoax. I’d say so.” Jack confirmed. This whole situation was starting to piss him off just a little bit. It felt a lot like he’d been taken for a fool.

“I have more questions, but that can wait.”

“Yeah. C’mon.” Jack and Carter helped Daniel up, and Jack gestured to the guard. “Get some clothes on Danny-boy.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're moving into Season 3 Episode 1 now, but I've decided to keep the two episodes part of the same fic, for continuity's sake.

As three quarters of SG-1 crept through the corridors of the mock-SGC, the adrenaline coursed through Sam’s veins and she began to feel much more comfortable. She supposed she should find it bizarre that she was at her most peaceful under pressure, but then that was likely what drew her away from a solely science-based life and towards the Air Force. She, the Colonel, and Daniel made their way through the familiar halls, in the direction in which, should this have been the real Stargate Command, the Gate Room would be.

None of them were armed, and despite the friendly surroundings the seriousness of their situation left Sam itching for a side arm. The weapons lockers were, sadly, not one of the features the Goa’uld had chosen to duplicate. Behind the first door was simply a golden wall.

The Colonel reached out to touch it. “Damn Cost Cutter.” He muttered.

“This facade is obviously part of a bigger Goa’uld facility,” Sam explained to Daniel as the Colonel opened another door, “complete with Horus and Serpent guards.”

She and Daniel swept along behind the Colonel, peering into the doors he had checked and disregarded.

“What? Horus and Serpent?” Questioned Daniel. “That’s kind of an odd alliance, isn’t it?” He was voicing precisely what Sam had been thinking. Just what kind of leader had rallied the two opposing factions?

As they continued along the corridors, more doors revealing more golden walls, Sam began to doubt that the Gate Room would be where it should. But as the blast-door slid open and she followed her CO, her heart jumped a little at the familiar sight of the Stargate. Still, she didn’t let herself fully believe the way out of this facility, and back to Earth could really be that easy. Could the Goa’uld really have left their escape route unguarded?

The Colonel strode up the ramp towards the ‘gate and Sam followed.

“I’ve never seen this place so deserted.” Stated Daniel from behind her, voicing her own concerns.

“Guess they figured they don’t need to keep up the act if we’re unconscious.” She replied, hopefully.

But at the top of the ramp the Colonel kicked the Stargate and a dull thud sounded, nothing like the metal clunk Sam would have expected.

“It’s fake.” The Colonel declared, and Sam’s heart sank again. But she followed him anyway to examine the ‘gate for herself. Not that she didn’t believe him, or that the sound it had made when his foot had impacted it left any doubt, but she desperately wanted it to have been that easy.

Below the ramp, Daniel opened a locker and found it empty. Frustrated, he scowled, “I don’t understand. Who would’ve spent enough time in the base to be able to reproduce it in this kind of detail? You don’t think Apophis…?”

“SILENCE!” Sam’s heart sank again as she turned, recognising the voice but refusing to believe it. Until Hathor materialised in front of the Stargate, that is, eyeing up the Colonel as she stood there in what could generously be described as “underwear”. Carter clenched her jaw, remembering what this particular Goa’uld had done to Colonel O’Neill the last time she’d gotten her hands on him.

“Oh, I was so hoping never to see you again.” He exclaimed, and Sam couldn’t have agreed more.

Hathor strode past him towards Daniel as the blast doors opened again, revealing Trofsky, or whatever his real name happened to be, who was pointing a Zat at them. From the other side of the Gate Room came Dr Raully, also pointing a Zat and followed by a gaggle of Jaffa. The hopeful feeling Sam had had when they saw the Stargate had now completely disappeared, replaced with an overwhelming sense of defeat.

Hathor stood in front of Daniel, reaching her hand out to stroke his hair and Sam fought back the urge to run at her. “But we have indeed missed you our beloved.”

She couldn’t attack Hathor, not with her guards so close by, and whilst she was sure Daniel knew the danger he was in, Sam still felt the need to warn him. “Daniel, don’t let her breathe on you.” Even as she said it she knew it was hopeless.

“Do you think that we would go to these lengths if you were not already immune to that organism?” Hathor retorted, her voice full of contempt.

‘Well, that’s certainly interesting.’ Thought Sam, shooting a glance back to the Colonel, who shrugged in a ‘Well it makes sense, Carter’ kind of way.

“Do you like our guards?” Hathor side-stepped Daniel with something akin to pride in her voice. “We managed to lure them from the remote outposts of our enemies.” As she sauntered up to her Jaffa, Daniel back up the ramp in front of Sam, and she shifted her stance slightly, itching for a fight.

“We are quietly building our forces before the System Lords even know that we are alive.” Hathor continued. “But doing so is difficult when we have to operate with limited knowledge of the state of the Empire.”

It was beginning to make sense. Hathor was coming back into the game blind; she had no information about the Goa’uld anymore, no armies of her own to gain any real power. She was desperate for any kind of advantage. Sam felt like perhaps they weren’t so doomed in this situation after all. These guards weren’t Hathor’s, not really. She’d used the same chemical trickery on them as she had at the SGC. And Sam, along with the other women on the base, had defeated her once. And this time she’d actually have Daniel and the Colonel on her side. She was pretty relieved that they wouldn’t be seduced by her so easily this time.

The Colonel strode down the ramp past Sam, a hand in the air, and she had to fight back a grin at his childish behaviour, even in the face of danger. “Let me take a guess.” He called out, “It’s just a wild guess, but that’s where we come in, right?”

“We know more than you do.” Sam nodded, finishing the Colonel’s train of thought.

Hathor turned. “Perhaps.” She glided towards them. “We are prepared to offer you a life of luxury as servants in our royal court, for sharing information.” She stopped in front of the Colonel and Sam had to clench her fists at her side. “Deny us...and you will not enjoy the alternative.”

Sam forced herself to bite back the spark of concern that flared through her when she saw the way the Colonel was staring intently into Hathor’s eyes. She resisted the memory which threatened to trigger the device on her head once more; fought back against the image of Hathor seducing the Colonel with chemicals and turning him against Sam, against the SGC. Then he spoke and she was reassured.

“You know...You really should do something about the breath.” He quipped.

That was her Colonel, thought Sam. Sarcastic, ballsy, and unable to resist the urge to taunt the enemy. She almost smiled at his childish bravado.

“How do we contact the Asguard so that we might align with their forces?” Hathor demanded.

“Try Roswell… a little place in New Mexico.” He retorted, and Sam nearly laughed. She held it back as Hathor moved towards her.

Holding one of their GDO’s to Sam’s jawline, Hathor tried her instead. “What is the sequence of numbers necessary to open the barricade protecting your Stargate?” Sam wished she was as quick-witted as the Colonel; instead she just stood silently and stared Hathor out. She could have sworn she saw the Colonel smile proudly when Hathor turned to glare at him.

“If you will not give us the information that we desire we do have another means of retrieving it.” Hathor clicked her fingers and a semi-naked Jaffa entered the room. She walked up to him and stroked her hand over his bare chest and down to the symbiote pouch on his stomach. “An opportunity has presented itself at a most fortuitous time.”

Sam saw the Colonel flinch and understood his desire to recoil. The last time Hathor had worked her little tricks on him, he had almost become a Jaffa himself. She felt bile in her throat at the idea that Hathor would try to do the same to him again. But then Hathor reached her hand into the Jaffa’s pouch and, to Sam’s disgust, pulled his symbiote from him. Holding it up to SG-1, Hathor declared “Our friend here is ready for a host.”

Sam cringed as she remembered the sensation of losing control of her own body to Jolinar. The thought of another symbiote taking her over filled her with terror. But so did the thought that the Colonel or Daniel would have to suffer the same.

“Tell us,” continued Hathor, “which one of you shall it be?” She strode past them, and the Colonel stepped back as the symbiote curled around her hand to hiss at him. At the top of the ramp she turned back to face them in their silence. “We ask you once more, which one of you shall be host to our new friend.”

As Hathor walked past them again, the Colonel glanced up at Sam and muttered “It has her eyes.” Despite their dire situation, Sam almost laughed again. She told herself it was gratitude towards his lightening of the mood that caused the tingling sensation in her belly when he caught her eye.

“SILENCE!” Demanded Hathor, who clearly hadn’t found the Colonel’s humour as amusing. She wandered across to Daniel. “Shall it be our beloved?” She reached up to stroke Daniel’s face as the symbiote screeched at him. “We could spend an eternity together. Do you not remember the joys that we once shared in one another’s arms?”  
“I really try not to.” Daniel looked as though he were fighting the urge to be sick.

Hathor moved towards Sam, who stood with a sense of dread flooding through her. “Shall it be the female then? She who would challenge us.” The symbiote stretched towards Sam, who, to her own shame and Hathor’s apparent amusement, pulled back automatically. Then a dark shadow crossed Hathor’s face. “You have since been possessed by a Goa’uld, we sense. Perhaps once more.” She taunted.

Despite what she felt, Sam lifted her head and glared directly at Hathor, avoiding looking down at the symbiote. She was putting on a show of bravery which she told herself was for her own pride, and not for the Colonel who stood beside her, ready to attack if the symbiote got too close to her. “I’m not afraid.”

“You should be my dear. For the pain that a symbiote can inflict on its host is unimaginable.” As Hathor said this the symbiote pulled away from Sam, shrieking and hissing towards the Colonel.

Sam followed it with her eyes, a dread and fear deeper than what she had felt for herself possessing her. ‘Not the Colonel,’ she thought, ‘Please not the Colonel.’ She looked up at his face, as he recoiled from the creature.

“It seems that our friend has chosen.” Hathor grinned eagerly.

“What, the grey doesn’t bother you?” He joked.

This time Sam didn’t feel the urge to smile. The joking and kidding was endearing, but there was no humour in his voice now. Sam could sense the fear behind the front he was putting up; she could feel it too. “All right, fine. Let’s do it.”

‘NO!’ Sam screamed inside her head, but the Colonel was still talking.

“Just, please, I beg of you. Not in the back of the neck. I’ve got some problems back there...” and he reached forward to grab the symbiote as Dr Raully shot him with the Zat. The symbiote disappeared below the ramp.

Immediately, Sam was ready to fight, but as the Colonel fell back to the floor, that urge left her and she dropped to his side, her hand on his chest. He stared up at her, clearly in pain, but his eyes were open, his chest warm against her hand, his heart beating fast but steady. The Doctor and Hathor were arguing, but Sam didn’t hear them. She was focused on the Colonel, recovering from her dread that he would have been taken as a host.

Then Hathor’s voice became clearer to her. “Take him somewhere where he can be properly restrained.” She spat at her entourage.

Sam, one hand still on the Colonel’s chest, crouched low over him, protecting him. But the Jaffa marched up the ramp and though she kicked out they pulled her away from him. Another Jaffa dragged the Colonel up, and to her dismay the three remaining members of SG-1 were pulled back towards the familiar corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last 5 Chapters. Sorry it's taken a while to get Chapter 6 up! More of Jack's point of view this time. Hope you enjoy!

Carter and Daniel stood side by side, watched over by Hathor’s Jaffa. Jack could sense them itching for a fight as he was pushed down onto the bed. Silently, he willed them to stay still, to wait for an opportunity to get themselves out of there. The idea of becoming a host made him feel physically sick, but the idea of Carter or Daniel becoming one tore at his heart. Daniel had already lost too much when Sha’re was taken; to see him suffer the same fate was just cruel. Sam had been there once before with the Tok’Ra, and Jack knew she still suffered from the effects of playing host to Jolinar. He would never allow her to go through that pain again. No, he was the best option if one of them had to suffer this. And with any luck Carter and Daniel would escape, then bring the full force of the SGC back to this hell-hole of a planet and end it. They both knew he’d rather die than live a half life in his own body; witness to any number of atrocities the symbiote might commit. As he fell back to the bed he caught Carter’s eye and knew that she was thinking the same. He thought he caught a glimmer of sadness, perhaps even pain, as she looked into his eyes.

Hathor moved in front of him, towering over him. “We are not pleased.”

“Neither are we.” Retorted Jack.

She stroked his face, the gold of her hand-device cold against his face. His thoughts once again turned to her infiltration of the SGC and the seductive powers she had held over the men there. This time, however, he merely felt sick as he turned his face away, her gentle touch nudging it back towards him. She brushed her fingers along his hair and forehead, finally settling on the device next to his eye. As she gripped it and pulled, Jack felt a sharp, stabbing pain piercing through him and imagined this must be what having an ice-pick lobotomy must feel like. Despite his efforts not to, he let out a growl of pain.

“Once host to a Goa’uld you will take the lives of your friends.” Hathor looked towards his team, and Jack tried to roll his eyes back to see them too, to catch one look of them and let them know he would never let that happen. He couldn’t see them.

“We don’t think so.”

“You will have no say in it.”

And Jack knew it was true. Unless he could find a way to end it first, he would be forced to watch himself kill a man he considered his closest friend, and Carter. He tried to stop it, but his morbid mind pushed an image of Carter on her knees in front of him, head thrown back in agony as he held a hand out over her, using a hand device to end her life. His throat closed, both at the thought of killing her and the idea of a world without her in it.

“You will witness their deaths through your own eyes,” Hathor continued, smiling and stroking his hair again, “helplessly.”

At the spark of joy in her eyes a dam broke within Jack. He would get out of this. And when he did, the first thing he would do would be to kill Hathor. He only hoped that he hadn’t murdered Carter and Daniel before then.

Hathor ripped his shirt open. “It may take some time for the Goa’uld to take control, but we will greatly enjoy experiencing your eventual defeat.”

Jack felt his heart racing as she turned to the Jaffa behind her. Presumably they had found the slimy snake he’d almost managed to kill. Then it was hovering over him, wrapped around Hathor’s arm, then sliding over his chest towards his neck. “Oh god. No.” Jack closed his eyes, willing himself to be anywhere but here.

“And when you awaken from the joining, you will kneel and pledge your loyalty to us.” She grabbed his head and yanked it, hard to the side, giving the snake access to the back of his neck.

He felt every moment of it, the tearing of his skin, the shifting of his muscles as the symbiote wormed its way down his spine. As the pain flowed through, him he felt himself scream. Through the agony he thought he heard gunfire, and saw Hathor turn towards the door. He let himself hope, just for a moment, that there might be a way out of this.

“Jaffa, kree mel!” He heard her call to her lackey as waves of pain flowed through his neck and back. Then more gunfire and shouting. “Jaffa. Lok shak tal makka kree!” Hathor commanded Raleigh, who moved round behind his head, just within his vision.

Hathor and her Jaffa left the room then, but Jack was barely aware of it happening. Raleigh, too, disappeared from his view, and then Jack was alone on the bed. But not truly alone, he thought, bitterly, as he actually felt the symbiote settle against his spine. If it weren’t for the pain he’d be clawing at his own skin to get it out.

Then Raleigh was back at his side, speaking in the gravelly voice of the Goa’uld, a voice he too would soon be using, he realised.

“O’Neill, you must fight it.” She was saying. But he wasn’t really listening. She grabbed his face in her hand and jerked it to look at her. “I am Tok’Ra.” He started to listen then and looked at her, puzzled. “The cryogenic process will prevent the melding, the Goa’uld within will die, but until then you _must_ fight it.” Then she let go and the cover of the chamber moved over his face.

His last thoughts were a confused mess before he lost consciousness. Images of Hathor smiling wickedly down at him flittered across his mind, replaced by Carter with that look of sadness and pain in her eyes. He held on to that image, stopping thoughts of the Goa’uld from entering his mind. Fighting it, as Raleigh had said. ‘Carter’, he thought, and then blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
